Series of Hunger Games One-Shots
by EtreAlive
Summary: A collection of one-shots from the perspectives of tributes, family/friends, and Capitol citizen/Game Makers. Rated M to be safe, but each story will have an individual rating at the top! PM me any requests or want to SYOT (:
1. Chapter 1

**Kimberlite Manson - 18 - District Two**

**T (violence, might be a little graphic but not bad)**

My platform clicks into place and I survey the land around me, scrutinizing the gray, dead-looking bush. That will be good for fires. They look like they light up easy. To my left about 15 meters stands Flint, my district partner and cousin. His coal black hair sparkles in the sun, and I see his body tense up, ready to run. The count down is at 30 seconds still, so I look around for the rest of my allies. Shimmer is a few tributes to my left; she gives me a confident smile and a wink, jerking her head to the left. I look over and see Glow, the other District One tribute, staring at me pointedly. Once he manages to get my attention he looks pointedly to the cornucopia, where I see a beautiful set of dual swords perched royally at the very top of the pile. My eyes narrow and a victorious smile plays on my lips.

The timer is down to four seconds. I copy Flint and go into a crouch. Three. My shoulders are tensed up, my fingernails clawing anxiously at the knees of my loose tan cargo pants. Two. My legs ache to take off running. I'm not the best long distance runner here, that's for sure, but my body was built for sprinting. One. My mind wipes itself of all thoughts other than getting to the top of that pile of supplies. My ears shut off, until all I hear is complete silence.

The gong goes off, I feel it vibrate through my body, and then I'm off. My body is leaning forward, my toes digging into the loose, slightly sandy soil, propelling me forward. I see Flint at my side from the corner of my eye, keeping watch for any tributes who might come at me. We reach the bottom of the supplies and I spring forward, clutching onto a crate with my nimble fingers.

"Go, Kim, get up there quick!" I hear Flint shout below me. I keep up my climb without turning to look at him, but I know he's fighting off some other tribute. The grunts below me are unmistakably his. With one last great leap, my fingers hook around the very tip of the handles and drag them down. Spinning quickly, I drop to a crouch on my box. I'm a few meters off the ground, watching the tops of everyone's heads as they bob and weave, trying to gather supplies without getting killed.

Flint stabs a large boy at the base of the pile right in the stomach and he falls, but a girl is running up behind him and he hasn't seen her yet. My eyes narrow as I hone in. She's inches away from plunging a spear into my district partner's back when I leap. My feet collide with her shoulders, slamming her into the ground. She lets out a puff of breath, but no other noise can escape her before my swords scissor into her neck, ending her life.

"Thanks," Flint yells to me as he takes off after a little girl headed away from the cornucopia. I whip around and see a massive boy coming at me with a sword in his hands. I shouldn't be, but I'm surprised. I trained for eleven years to expect the worst and to never be caught off-guard, and yet here I am. He's drawing back the sword, preparing to swing it right at my head, when suddenly he screams in pain. I look around to see Glow has taken off the other tribute's hand with his axe. He's panting and preparing for another swing at the boy when his prey is stolen from him by Shimmer.

She leaps into the air and slams into the boy's back, driving her knife in to keep herself on top of him. He lets out a roar of pain and falls to the ground, Shimmer still on top of him. She removes her knife, grabs a handful of his hair to lift his head off the ground, and slits his throat before leaping up once more. Grinning at me, she salutes with two fingers before taking off again, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her.

There are only a handful of tributes left in the area, and most of them are in combat. I see the tributes from district three and four fall to the ground at the hands of my allies and a tribute I don't know. Deciding on her as my next target, I tighten my grip on my swords and take off toward her. She finishes off the district four girl with a deadly blow the the head with a rock and turns to see me racing toward her. I'm a ways away, and she has enough time to start running. There's nothing on her back and I wish I had thought to grab a knife; she would be dead already.

The win rushes through my ears as I sprint after her. My long sleeved shirt is weighing me down and I'd much rather strip down to the tight tank top below, but there isn't time. The girl stumbles and it encourages me. A smile crosses my lips as she looses ground. We're getting farther and farther away from the cornucopia now, and I feel a little uncomfortable so far away from my group. But this girl is harmless, she's alone and unarmed as far as I can tell.

In front of us is what looks like a dropoff; not huge, maybe only a meter or two, but I definitely want to catch the girl before we reach it. Lucky me, she stupidly turns around to look at me as she runs, which slows her down. My toes dig deeper into the dry soil and I know I'm close enough now to catch her. Leaping forward, my arms lock around her hips and I tackle her to the ground. She screams out a name I don't recognize but I ignore her. The blood is pounding in my ears.

I flip her over onto her back and pin her down. She's screaming and writhing, flailing her arms at me wildly. I awkwardly punch her jaw and her hands fly to it, allowing me to grab them and place my knees on her hands so they can no longer hit me. The girl is hyperventilating, but she manages to scream out that name again. From behind me I hear my own name being called from multiple sources, but I don't turn. I don't have time.

Before I know what's happening, I've been tackled myself, thrown backwards onto the ground. I skid through the dirt and the breath gets knocked out of me. Above my face looms a pale, brown haired boy who I recognize as District Nine's. He's bearing down on me, teeth gritted and eyed screwed up. He draws back a hand and sinks it into my stomach, putting an immense amount of force behind it. I gasp for air as the pain shoots through me. From elsewhere above me I hear yelling, and I think it's close.

Trying to throw the massive boy off of me results in a punch to my arm, bending my elbow in a way elbows aren't supposed to bend. Even more pain shoots through me but I refuse to give up. My eyes are watering but I bare my teeth and lunge at his exposed neck. I manage to grab a tiny amount of skin and latch on, biting down hard. The boy pulls away in surprise and I push my head to the ground at the same time. It's revolting, but I find I have a chunk of his skin in my mouth. I spit it out, gagging, but it got the job done. Or at least partially.

The boy sits up, his legs still pinning me down, and puts his hand to his neck. His fingers come away red and he positively spits with rage. His fist draws back to punch me again, but before he can do anything else an arrow slices into his skin, right into his chest. He looks down at it for a moment before another one pierces his stomach and he collapses on top of me. I struggle under his weight, but I'm no match. Then two sets of hands grab onto his shoulders and our combined effort succeeds in lifting his torso enough for me to wriggle out. Panting, Flint pulls me roughly to my feet and protectively puts his arm sound me. I lean into his shoulder, exhausted. Shimmer puts a hand on my cheek, which is surprising because she's not been one for human contact thus far, but she pulls it away and I see blood.

"Is that mine?" I question dumbly, putting my own fingers against my cheek as well.

"She got away," growls Glow from his position on the cliff edge. His bow is loaded and pointed into the distance, but his muscles are relaxed. He puts the arrow away and slings the bow over his shoulder before turning back to me. "You alright, Diamonds?" he asks, using my nickname. My name comes from a type of rock that often holds diamonds, hence the nickname. It was originally given to me by Flint when we were children, and I guess our allies took to it, even though Flint had to explain it to them at first. Not being from District Two, they don't really know their rocks.

"Yeah, I'm fine, no worries," I say with a little smile, my breath finally catching up to me. "How many kills did you guys get?"

"Two," say Shimmer and Glow at the same time.

"I got three," Flint says proudly, removing his arm from me to ruffle his hair the way he does when he's pleased with himself, "and I think you got one, right?"

I nod at him, frowning. I was supposed to be the secret weapon. Dual swords are my specialty, and they're incredibly rare in the Games. No one would see it coming. And I had failed. There was a reason I was the lead and Flint was my cover. I had got the higher training score, I had impressed the Capitol with my "disguised" ruthlessness. I was supposed to take point. And I had only managed one measley kill. To be completely honest, I was disappointed with myself.

"Come on," I grumble, "we better move so they can collect the bodies."

As we treck back to the cornucopia to set up camp, the canon starts to fire, signifying the official end of the blood bath. One, two, three.. Twelve shots in all are fired, and I'm cheered at the thought that half the competition is already gone. We set up the camp with minimal small talk, choosing to pitch the three one-man tents directly in front of the cornucopia. Shimmer takes first watch, armed with a belt of knives strapped to her waist while she twirled another two in her hands.

I dream of one of my fondest memories, a day many years ago when my little sister, Shale, was born. I was furious that my parents were trying to replace me, but when the doctor asked if I wanted to hold the newborn I was too shy to say now. He handed five year old me the little bundle of yellow blankets and I looked into the round pink face of my sister, and felt nothing. She was born to replace me in my parents' hearts. I wanted nothing to do with her. And then she grabbed my finger. That tiny little hand was the most adorable thing I'd ever seen in my life. Just like that, I was sold. The sweetest little girl in the world won my heart at less than one day old.

I wake up to noises of struggle outside, the pressure of Shale's fingers still on my skin. Jumping up, I grab my swords and slip through the doorway of the tent. The sky has faded to dusk, and I can just make out the outline of struggling blobs a little way off in the distance. I take off for it, and as I get closer I realize it's Shimmer and two other figures I don't recognize. One seems to be holding her mouth so she can't make a noise, and I speed up as I notice he's just managed to secure her hands. The other shape extends a hand toward Shimmer's belt and I see a flash.

"Glow!" I scream out at loud as I can, praying he reacts quickly. As the one with the bow, he's the most likely to be able to help me fight these tributes. Flint, with his spears, would neither be able to throw far nor run fast enough to get to me before these assailants killed our ally.

I reached the group three seconds too late. The tribute with the knife - a girl I think was from district twelve - plunged it into Shimmer's neck and she let out a scream from behind the other tribute's hand. He let her go and she fell to the ground, blood pouring from her carotid artery like a faucet. Her cannon boomed. Grabbing more knives from Shimmer's belt, they both turned on me. The boy threw one of his knives at my head and I blocked it with my swords. Slicing out, I managed to cut him across the chest and tackle the girl.

Slamming her into the ground, her head hit the ground with a sickening crack. I think she was disoriented, because she didn't even try to fight back when I put my swords to her throat. Pausing to smile furiously at her, savoring the moment I avenge the death of my ally, I am caught totally by surprise as the boy slams into my side, knocking me off the girl. Apparently I hadn't cut him deep enough; his lower chest is bleeding, but it doesn't seem to bother him.

I roll off the girl, but the boy's weight turns out to be his downfall. He is carried too far and slips right over the top of me. In the process I lost hold of one of my swords and I scramble to pick it up. It's just out of my reach, so I crawl forward toward it as quick as I can, desperately stretching out my arm. I'm still a foot away, but a sudden weight on my back prevents me from moving any more. The boy is back, and he's thrown himself on top of me. He's reaching for the sword too, and I know of he gets it I'm done for. He's larger than me, and without its pair my weapon is useless. Dual swords are to be used as one; they are mirrors of each other, extensions of one's arms. Without one, I am powerless. He, on the other hand, looks to have enough strength to use the sword on its own.

I'm fighting for my life here, and I won't back down to some boy who doesn't deserve to win the way I do. I have trained for this, it's my destiny to win the Hunger Games. This boy will not get in my way. With an enormous effort, I manage to free my arm from where it's pinned down and bend it painfully backward. Since I can't exactly see, I'm pretty much just aiming for any part of the boy's face I can reach. Lucky me, I hit my mark and manage to stab my knuckles into his eyes. He yells out in pain and jerks away from me, giving me just enough room to roll over. We're now pressed belly to belly and I see that he's the District Ten boy.

"Ten," I hiss at him, struggling for breath. He's crushing my lungs with his weight, but I manage to get it out, glaring at him.

"Two," he snarls back, "you're dead."

"Don't you wish," I spit at him slowly, really struggling for breath now. My lungs are starting to hurt from lack of oxygen. Lucky me, I happened to exceed at this back in the academy - keeping my head in high pressure situations. I hear voices now, Flint yelling my name and Glow yelling Shimmer's. Judging from the fact that District Ten is still alive, he didn't bring the bow. I curse him in my head, but concentrate mostly on the situation I'm in now. If I just wiggle my leg a little to the left.. Yes. The boy stretches forward toward my sword, pushing his feet into the soil for traction. This is exactly what I was waiting for, his mind to be otherwise occupied enough not to notice my movement. I drive my knee upward toward my face and it collides right between his legs.

He instantly reacts, rolling off of me and into the fetal position, moaning pitifully. I leap off the ground and retrieve my other sword. Looking around, I see my allies are almost here.

"Guess nap time's over," I growl, looking around, "where's the girl?"

"She ran off, as soon as this one tackled you," Flint replies as he plunges his knife into the boy's heart, panting from his run. The canon booms. Glow stares over at Shimmer's body, his eyes deliberately hardening. I can tell he's trying to hide how bad he hurts.

"Let's go," I say, "I believe we've got a girl to track down, eh Glow? It was District Twelve."

Glow gives me a death glare, but I know it's not really meant for me. I smile and clap him on the shoulder. He seems to come to himself again, nodding at me. We head off in the direction she went, the half moon and stars providing enough light to see by but not enough to give us away.

We walk for hours, but see nothing. The temperature has been dropping steadily, and I'm beginning to see my breath even in the faint light. My skin is frozen, I feel the bumps as they brush against my loose fitting clothes, but it's a mind over matter thing, and I choose to ignore the discomfort. I let my light brown hair down, and it cascades almost all the way to my elbows. It keeps my ears and neck warmer and I smile a bit, very comfortable and ready to stay up all night hunting tributes if that's what it takes.

Apparently that is what it takes, because we finally spot smoke just as the sun peaks over the horizon. From the sky last night, we figured out that the only remaining tributes were from outlying districts, no match for us. Upon approaching the source of the smoke, we discovered a burning bush and what looked like the sleeping form of another tribute. Flint signaled for us to fan out, forming a triangle around the curled up form. My swords are getting heavy, my mind slowing with exhaustion. But I'm ready.

When we're in position, Flint signals for us to close in. Sprinting forward all at once, she awakens and bolts upright at the sound of our pounding feet. I recognize her as District Twelve at the same time Glow does. He let's out a furious war cry. Flint and I fall back; this is Glow's battle, not ours. If we took this moment from him, he would never forgive us. He kicks the burning bush at the girl out of rage, causing her to shriek and scramble backward. Glow ignores the bow slung over his shoulder and whips out a knife from where he kept it tucked between his belt and pants. I can see the venom in his expression as he throws it with all his might directly at her head. I'm surprised the blade sticks, but it does. Funny, I always thought skulls were harder than that. Glow must be very strong. I shudder a big at the thought of being on the other end of his offensive.

The canon booms and Glow falls to his knees. He's breathing heavily. I get that he wanted revenge for his district partner, but he seems to be a bit more invested than I understand. I drift over toward Flint, both of us still watching Glow.

"What's with him?" I say in a hushed voice, "I mean, over dramatic much?"

Flint's eyes flick to me briefly before going back to Glow. "They were dating for a year, he volunteered to come here to protect her," he says in a voice even lower than mine. I don't know what to say to that, so I stay silent. I had no idea they even knew each other before the Games, Glow and Shimmer. As if he's reading my mind, Flint whispers "you should really get to know your allies a little more, Diamonds" before moving away from me. He cautiously walks over to Glow and claps a hand on his shoulder. Glow looks around and Flint smiles at him reassuringly. Glow stands, takes a deep breath, and the pair walks back over to me.

By now the sun has risen and our stomachs are growling. We probably shoukd have left one of our group behind to guard the camp last night, but if we learned anything from Shimmer's death it's that we're definitely safer in numbers. We make it back to camp as the sun reaches its peak. This arena must be huge if we've walked for half a day across pretty flat ground and not even reached the edge. I didn't notice until now, but I'm dying of thirst. We break into the water supply and each polish off a quart in the next ten minutes before moving onto the packs of dehydrated food.

An hour later I've been chosen for guard duty first, so the boys retire to their tents and I climb up to sit on top of the metal cornucopia. Sure, I'm in plain sight of any and all tributes for miles, but I'm banking on the hope that they won't think anyone would be stupid enough to make such a target of themself. I entertain myself by carving my name into the cornucopia with a knife. The canon fires and I look around, but as far as I can see there's no one for miles, so I turn my face back to my carving. It's faint because the metal is so hard, but I can still see it. What feels like hours later, Flint wakes up to take my place as guard. Rubbing his eyes, he smiles at me before settling himself down against a crate and begins to survey the landscape. I slide down the side of the cornucopia and stumble my way into my tent. I don't remember laying down, but I awaken suddenly to the sound of yelling outside.

I'm grabbing for my swords when the door to my tent opens at my feet. Something tells me it's not a friendly face I'm going to see, so I lash out with my right leg without turning around and make contact with something. Who or what ever it is grunts and I roll to my knees, throwing a knife into the darkness outside my warm tent. I hear it thud into something solid and a gasp of pain. Diving out of my tent, I fall into a crouch, ready to defend myself. Lying in front of me is a young boy, writhing in pain and clutching his thigh where I see the hilt of my knife is sticking out from. I pull it out and plunge it into his chest. He convulses where he lays and I pull the knife out roughly. His body jerks once and is still, the canon fires.

I'm already back into my crouched position, bloody knife tucked into my belt and swords at the ready. A body flies past and I recognize the toned figure of Glow even in the dark as he swings his axe at the head of another body. Whoever it is ducks and retreats further. They haven't seen me yet and I use that to my advantage, scissoring my swords against the unknown tribute's ankles. They let out a pained cry and fall to the ground; I must've got the Achilles tendon. Glow sinks his axe into the stomach of the unknown tribute and she screams out a blood curdling scream that even chills my bones. I leap forward and cut her neck with my swords, ending the terrible noise.

Glow raises his axe to me before realizing who I am. Without a word of explanation he turns and returns to the fight. Suddenly the sun is rising; it must be created by the Game Makers, because within a minute it appears to be nine o'clock. I realize that a group of four tributes has attacked us, two of which remain alive. One is battling Glow with a sword, but Glow is holding his own. I turn to see Flint fighting the girl from the bloodbath, the one I almost killed. My eyes narrow. She appeared so weak two days ago, yet now she's positively ripped. In slow motion it seems, I watch her lash out with her spear, aiming for Flint's head. She misses by inches thanks to his dodge, but follows up with a left handed stab with her knife. It hits his side, burying itself in him. She lets go and he doubles over in pain, allowing her to drive her spear directly up into his heart. The sound seems to echo in my head, rattling my brain.

My own heart stops. I knew this would come, I knew only one of us could survive in the end, but I didn't think this would happen. We're the Careers, we're supposed to be the most feared tributes in the arena, and yet we're dying off one by one. I don't realize it's me for a good 30 seconds, buy I'm screaming. Not with grief, but with fury. This notch just killed my cousin, right in front of me. The girl turns to look at me, eyes defiant, but her gaze soon moves past me. Her ally must have fallen to Glow, because the defiance in her eyes has turned to fear.

She turns on her heel and takes off toward the cliff again. This time, I will not lose her. My feet are flying over the ground and I don't even feel my body, it's so numb. Rage courses through my veins like no other emotion I have ever felt. I drop my swords, they're weighing me down. My hair, still loose from the day before, streams wildly behind me and I wish I'd tied it back up. It will just get in my way. I understand why Glow reacted the way he did when Shimmer died. I understand the lust for blood. I thought I got it yesterday, but I was so very wrong. The feeling is like a burning fire, it courses through my veins like poison. This girl will die.

I hear Glow's feet pounding behind me but I know he's just coming to back me up if I need it. He knows this is my kill. I speed up, my mind shutting down until all I'm focused on is the here and now. We reach the cliff and the girl pauses before jumping down. She must have landed wrong and fallen, because suddenly I'm close on her heels. Without a second thought, my foot pushes off the edge of the cliff with as much force as I can muster and I'm literally flying throught the air like an arrow. She never sees me coming. I doubt she ever thought I'd pull such a ridiculously dangerous stunt. The drop was farther than I'd expected, maybe three to four meters, but I don't feel any pain of impact when my body slams into her shoulders.

I swear I broke her spine, but she's still breathing. I knocked the wind out of both of us, but I can't stop now. Turning her over so I can see her expression, I plunge my knife into her chest. She gasps and lets out a wail of pain, but doesn't die. I rip my knife out of her and she gasps, beginning to struggle. I must have missed her heart by a lot if she has this much life in her. I don't know how I could possibly miss a heart, but I don't have time to think about it. Plunging my knife in again, I'm sure I didn't miss. I must be right, because she quits struggling and goes limp. I let go of my grip on the knife and sit panting over her. I've won. But I don't hear the canon, so she must not be dead yet. I lean closer to listen for breath, putting my ear a few inches from her mouth.

An excruciating pain pierces my heart. I choak a bit, my throat filling with hot blood. It spills from my mouth and I sputter, rolling off the girl. Her final act was to stab me in the left lung. Her canon goes off. Glow is there, kneeling over me, screaming my name. Or at least I think he's screaming; my ears are suddenly not working properly. I want to tell him to win, that I'll tell Shimmer he loves her, but I can't make my mouth move. I try to tell him to calm down, not show so much weakness. He now only has one opponent left. At least I think it's one. I try to do some mental math really fast, but it seems a lot harder now that half my blood is on my shirt and the ground. I look into Glow's hazel eyes and I think he must get my message, because he suddenly stops moving his mouth and wipes his face blank. I get his distress, he feels at least a bit of loyalty toward his allies, and now he's lost them both in a span of half an hour. My mouth finally opens and I know I have just enough life left in me for one last word.

"Win," I force out in a voice that can barely be called a whisper. I'm not sure he hears me at first, but then he grabs my hand and squeezes once before standing and turning his back on me. The slightest hint of a smile plays on my face and my last breath passes my lips. I have a very good feeling that this kid is going to win.


	2. Chapter 2

**Aphra Smelting, Capitol citizen**

**T (only because its the Hunger Games, this one isn't too violent)**

This year should be exciting, I think. The reapings showed a lot of potentially attractive tributes, and once they got cleaned up a bit for the opening ceremonies a few in particular caught my eye. The district one pair was boring this year, both very plain. District two's girl, Spark, was gorgeous and lithe, I have a good feeling about her. I marked her down as one of my potential top picks for betting. Along with her, I wrote down district six's huge male tribute, Swift, district nine's little girl, Amber, who had a strangely fierce look in her eyes, district ten's muscular and attractive Rails, and district eleven's female, Shadow. The last one intrigued me; her skin was extremely pale and freckled, but her hair was a dark dark brown. Her slight frame and seemingly quiet nature made her appear very wrong for the Games, but something about her drew me to her.

I eagerly watched the training scores and was pleased to find that my picks had got scores in the middle to high range. The interviews showed Spark was wonderfully mannered and elegant, in her lovely white ballgown flecked with gray and black in a way that was obviously meant to represent marble. She was sure to get many sponsors from the capitol bachelors. District six came then, Swift, dressed in a tan suit with a plain black tie, his dirty blonde hair glistening in the stage lights. I found this choice interesting, tan was not usually an attractive colour, but it made Swift look even bigger than he had at the reaping and opening ceremony. It must be his strategy, to seem big and imposing, because he was fairly surly through his entire interview. Amber from district nine came next, but she seemed very cute and girly, not at all reflecting the look I saw in her eyes at her reaping or the 9 she got in training. Very curious.

I was completely enthralled with Rails, who dressed in a very casual outfit of jeans and a red plaid, long sleeved shirt. I was offended at first that he would dress down so much for such an important event, but I began to see that it reflected his easy-going personality. Rails was kind and polite, always saying "ma'am" and "sir" when talking to this year's duo of interviewers. He laughed easily and I was sad when his time was up, almost forgetting who was about to come up. My final favourite, Shadow, took the stage looking striking in a black dress that hugged her torso before falling loosely down to her ankles. She, too, was captivating. Her attitude was similar to Swift's, quiet and intimidating, but I saw a hint of a scared little girl when she was asked about her family. It was a nice effect, trying to be brave for her three younger sisters back home but not quite managing to hide her emotions completely. A very nice effect. I hoped it worked out for her.

But now that's done and gone; today is the first day of the Games, and things are off to a great start. The bloodbath killed more tributes than usual, a total of thirteen are now gone. Thankfully, all of my top picks survived. Spark from district one allied with the other tributes from one and four, as well as her district partner from two, and surprisingly Swift from district six joined them. The alliance of those three districts usually don't invite outsiders in, but Swift is huge and intimidating, so I suppose I can see why they chose to keep him close at hand.

Amber, the little girl from nine, went straight off into the field of grass when the gong sounded the start of the Games. I didn't even see her grab any gear; she'll probably regret that later. The arena this year is what the announcers call a "savannah," it appears to be scorching hot with only a few trees here and there to provide shade. When they show an overview of the arena, I see there are a handful of blue puddles of water dotting the circular area, so the tributes probably won't die of thirst. At least not all of them. There are some jagged rocks in one part of the arena, they look pretty dangerous to me but the tributes aren't that smart; at least one of them is bound to stumble through them looking for shelter.

While I study the map on my television, a canon fires and I shift my gaze quickly to the other half of the split screen. The commentators announce the death of the district eleven girl, Shadow, who I completely forgot about until now. It's been a few hours since the Games began, and they haven't shown anything about her since she grabbed a tarp and canteen from the ground near the cornucopia and took off. Frowning, I watch the recap of her heading down a little slope to get to a pond at the bottom of a basin. As she nears the water, she looks around carefully before pulling out her canteen and bending to fill it. Her hands have barely touched the surface of the water when something lunges out at her, gripping her around the upper arm with its long, green snout.

Some sort of gigantic lizard is dragging the screaming Shadow into the pond, where a few of its friends appear to be waiting just below the surface. The announcers declare the beasts to be crocodiles, something I've never heard of before, before switching the camera to a new scene currently unfolding. Amber, the little girl, is climbing to the top of an odd looking tree with bark that looks almost red. The sun is beginning to set, so she's probably planning to sleep up there. Her lack of supplies has left her with no water or food all day, and its beginning to show. Tired eyes scan the surrounding grass carefully before she begins picking carefully at the tree bark. For a minute I'm confused, but then the commentators guess that she's going to eat the inside layer of bark. Disgusted at this, I hear them talk about how this particular type of tree has highly nutritious "meat" on the inside, but as she puts the first little strip into her mouth the camera shifts over to the alliance with Spark and Swift.

Having set up their camp inside the cool metal of the cornucopia, the alliance is settling down to sleep on full bellies of dried food, judging from the numerous packages littering the ground. Spark is trying to chat up Swift, who seems to be making an effort to ignore her. The rest of the alliance falls asleep soon enough, and before I know it I do too.

Who knows how many hours later, I awake to the sound of crackling. It's the hot season right now, mid summer, so a fire is pretty unusual. Thinking my avox must have lit it for some reason, I lay there for a moment and just listen to the pleasant snaps and cracks, imagining that I can feel the heat even though I'm across the room from the fireplace. Then I hear a few people yelling out war cries, as well as a high pitched scream, and my eyes snap open. The sound of fire isn't coming from my end, it's coming over the television. My screen shows a blaze of orange eating up the long golden grasses like a child eats candy, a group of tributes I recognize as the alliance running ahead of it. They don't seem afraid, and I gasp as I realize they started the fire themselves. All seven pairs of eyes are locked on a point ahead of them, vicious joy dancing in their pupils. The camera pans over to a lone little girl sprinting away from both the tributes and the fire, and even though they're still a ways off, I can tell she's a goner.

"Well now," says the morning announcer, "for those of you just waking up, welcome to day two of the Hunger Games!" I lean forward in anticipation, the alliance is gaining ground on the girl. "Here we have the alliance chasing down the female tribute from District Seven. Remember, the alliance consists of the District One, Two, and Four tributes, as well as the male from District Six. In past years the alliance has rarely allowed someone not from those three districts to join their little elite group, he'll have to show him he's worth the bend in their rules." I think he's joking a little at the end, but the alliance is closing in and beginning to fan out, probably to trap the girl in a circle and make a game of her. Oooh, I hope they make her a game. "This could be District Six's big chance to prove himself - yes! There he goes!"

The announcer falls silent as Swift moves in, machete in hand. He's all-out sprinting, crouching for a leap, flying through the air, and tackling the little girl to the ground. Letting out a petrified scream, the girl has just enough time to wriggle a few times in a futile attempt to loosen his grip when his arm slashes through the air and her canon goes off. The triumphant cheers from the alliance seem to echo around them, but they're cut off short. Their fire is still coming, uncontrollable and fierce. They call to Swift to keep moving.

"Well there we have it, ladies and gentlemen. One more tribute down, only eight to go and we'll have our winner! But don't tune out just yet, the fun is all but over - I spy a tribute just up ahead!" Sure enough, the camera has panned over to the ever-gorgeous Rails poking his head out of a hole in a giant mound of dirt. He appears to see the fire, for his eyes widen and he ducks back into the darkness, returning a few seconds later with a backpack and a sleeping bag. Stuffing the latter into the former, he ruffles his light brown hair and quickly scans the area while pulling on the pack. He spots the alliance just as they spot him and doesn't hesitate to sprint off in the opposite direction. There's a small knife in his hand and a rope slung around his neck and shoulder, but that's all the supplies I can really see. I hope his sleepingbag is the only thing in his pack, so he won't be weighed down.

Luckily he seems to have no trouble keeping ahead of the alliance, but he comes to an abrupt stop when he reaches a patch of pretty bare ground. There are a few clumps of grass here and there, but for a quarter mile in all directions it's mostly dirt. Confused for a moment, I frown and worry that the alliance is gaining ground. "Oh, look what they've thrown in this year!" says the announcer, "quicksand, folks! It's a sort of mud that'll latch onto anything that touches it and suck it down. Wonder what this District Ten boy thinks about it, I think he might recognize it." He's right, Rails is shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking back once at the alliance, and then he leaps. It had to be a distance longer than he is tall, but Rails somehow manages to clear it and land on a patch of grass as big as his torso. He almost falls forward, but winds his fingers into the grass and pulls hard to catch his balance. He crouhes and I scoff. Does he really think he can hide there and the alliance won't find him? They might not be able to touch him, but they can easily throw their weapons for a kill shot.

He's sawing at the grass now, right at the base, with his pathetic little knife. Once it's all cut down, he quickly but carefully sticks it straight up out of the quicksand. It blocks the roots from view completely, making the little island of solid ground look like it's moved a foot toward the alliance. The quicksand is holding the grass in place the same way the roots did, so they stick straight up and wave gently in the breeze. He's created a fake island, and I have no doubt at least one of the tributes in the alliance will fall for it. While I admire his wit, Rails is already leaping to the next little island, but this time he does't stop to cut and re-plant the grass. He's focused on putting as much distance between himself and the alliance, it seems, and with good reason.

As he leaps from clump to clump, making it to the halfway point, the alliance reaches the trap. Spark must have never seen quicksand before, and apparently doesn't notice the odd way Rails is moving, because she doesn't hesitate to step on the fake ground. It gives way instantly in a way it didn't do for the grass and within seconds she's burried to the waist. Her weight must be significantly more than that of the grass, which is still standing on the surface as if it were planted there. The other tributes skid to a stop just in time and Spark's district partner tries to reach her to pull her back. She's shrieking in fright and staring wildly around. I think she can't feel her legs, because she's hysterically yelling something about numbness. Her partner is reaching desperately for her, but behind him the District Ones exchange a sly look and, as one, shove the District Two boy into the quicksand head first. He, too, is sucked down instantly, and his canon goes off within twenty seconds.

Spark is screaming her head off and I realize I'm standing in front of the television with my breath held in excitement. This is turning out to be an excellent Games, despite being pretty quick. Swift ignores her, but keeps a wary eye on the District One tributes in case they decide to do the sane to him. He's looking around the quicksand with narrowed, calculating eyes. The District Four tributes announce they're going to try to go around and take off in opposite directions. The District One male seems to notice Rails' strange leaping and pieces it together, because he suddenly makes a wild leap for the grass. He falls short by about an inch and the quicksand happily laps him up as well, swallowing him all the way to his shoulders. He joins Spark in yelling, and I notice she's sunk to her neck in the last few minutes. This stuff works quick. District One wails in sadness and flops onto the ground with her head in her hands. This alliance isn't nearly as tough as it has been in past years, but their stupidity does make for good television.

Getting the idea from District One, Swift backs up into the grass until he's hidden completely from the camera's view. He suddenly comes sprinting out of the grass and jumps into the air, hurtling over the barely visible District One boy's head, and landing right on the grass that Rails had fake planted. For the fourth time, a member of the alliance plummets into the quicksand and buries themself, this time up to his chin. His dark eyes widen with terror, but no noise escapes him. A canon goes off and I know it's for the District One boy who has completely vanished now. Swift seems to resign himself to the inevitable and tears start to flow down his face. This uncharacteristic sign of weakness disgusts me. He was supposed to be my strongest choice, the one who could hold up through anything. Crying revolts me. I'm glad when the camera switches to Rails, who has come to a stop. He has made it almost all the way across the trap, but there are no more islands to jump to and he's still too far to make it to land.

A tree is planted at the very edge of the savannah dirt, one of its smaller branches hanging out over the quicksand. For a moment Rails seems to weigh his options: go back, try to jump the gap, throw his pack in to serve as a stepping stone, or somehow get to that branch, which is closer to him than solid ground but probably wouldn't support his weight. I can tell he's chosen option four when his face lights up and he quickly pulls the rope over his head. Looping it in complicated knots, the boy somehow crafts it to be a noose. Winding up the rope in his hand, he slings it toward the branch. It catches and he grins, gives it a tug. It slips off and falls into the quicksand.

The grin slides off his attractive face and he notices the District Four tributes, who are on the last leg of their run. If they reach the tree before he does, he's dead. Determination covers his face as he winds up the rope again. It catches and this time it sticks, allowing him to pull the noose tight around the middle of the branch. He gives it a quick tug before bending down and stabbing his knife through the loose end and into the ground. The rope, now taught, serves as a bridge; Rails wraps his legs around it and pulls himself forward with his hands, up toward the branch.

I let out a cheer for him, and as I do a canon goes off. Both Rails and I freeze. He looks around, terror in his eyes, but sees nothing. I, on the other hand, quickly flip through the channels on my television until I find a program showing the deaths of each tribute. I watch as Amber, who I had completely forgotten about again, scrambles up another tree to escape the fire lapping at her heels. It doesn't save her; the wood catches fore instantly, the branch she's sitting on snaps in the heat, and she plummets to her death before she has time to even open her mouth for a scream.

Flipping back to Rails, I'm startled to see him hanging one handed from what's left of the broken limb. The branch seems to have broken from his weight, but somehow he's managed to grab the five inch stub with his finger tips and is now swinging precariously, trying desperately to find another place to hold onto with his other hand. The District Fours are nearing now, yelling out war cries and pulling their weapons. They've only got a couple of spears, but I have a feeling they can be deadly accurate with them. Rails sees them too and I know he's thinking the same thing I am: if he doesn't move NOW he's a goner. Throwing caution to the wind, the gorgeous young man swings himself as best he can toward shore, barely managing to land on a protruding tree limb.

One of his feet slips back and his shoe sinks an inch into the quicksand though, and an even more panicked look crosses his face. My heart skips a beat, I swear it does. He's my last top pick, there are only a few tributes left. If I lose him too, that's a ton of money out the door. At this point his odds are four to one; that's a huge profit if he wins. He quickly but carefully unites his shoe and slips his foot out, glances at the District Fours who are both pulling their arms back to throw the spears, and leaps into the field of tall grass. In this area it's higher than he is tall, so his entire body is lost from view. One of the spears follows him, the other making contact with the root he was just perched on. Both alliance tributes are about to follow Rails into the grass, though there's no way they can find him now, when a slightly far off scream makes them scream. It's different than the others thus far, not scared and confused, but it drips with agonizing, soul-shattering pain. The television screen splits to show both the District Four tributes looking back across the trap, and what they're watching: the District One female writhing on the ground, her entire body coated in flames. The grass fire finally caught up.

It's an awful sight to see, but I can't look away. I vaguely register that my mouth is hanging open, but I make no effort to close it. She's dying; there's no hope for her now. Three tributes left. The female from Four seems to realize this too, because she turns to her partner and rapidly draws her knife. He notices too late, and before he can respond in kind he's dead. Make that two tributes left. My anticipation builds, I know this is where the Game Makers will throw the final two together in a bloody match to the death. The best part, after the bloodbath.

For now though, the female decides to rest. She pulls the pack off her partner's body and takes his knife and what looks like a blow gun and a handful of darts, tucks them into her own pack, and heads out. She's not going toward the cornucopia, which I'm starting to think has been burnt to a crisp, but walks along the edge of the quicksand until she reaches the end, then keeps going in a straight line. The cameras have a hard time keeping track of her through the tall grasses, so for a while I don't know where I'm supposed to be looking and I lose interest. Calling up my friend, I invite her over for a viewing party. She accepts and says she'll be over soon.

While I wait I flip the television channel to watch the interviews of the final two families. They usually do the top five or so, but these deaths went so quickly. My father is an interviewer, I watch him talking with the family of the female tribute about her as a child. The mother says she was always a competitive girl, and they knew right away she belonged in the Games. She practiced her weapon skills for fun every day after school in the back yard. She played survival all around the district on weekends. There was nothing she hated more than stealth, preferring to jump right in and fight, but she forced herself to practice by sneaking around after people on the street. Her family was smirking during this entire speach, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.

I never caught her name, because as my father was about to say it before they switched over to Rails's family my friend Antoinette walked in, squealing about how gorgeous Rails was but how much she loved the female's hair. We switched the channel back to the live feed and gossiped about who was betting on whom until something of internet happened. The screen was split in two, one side showing Rails and the other the girl, or so we assumed. They were both wading through the grass, completely invisible to us.

"Aphra, didn't you pick him as a top five?" Antoinette asks me, stuffing her face with popcorn.

"Yeah, every girl I know did! He's gorgeous, for someone from a district!" I respond enthusiasticly.

"I didn't get to place my bets, Mom wouldn't let me until I told her my answer about Manny," she says sadly. My friend is being forced (well, not really, but she felt like it was forced) into an arranged marriage with a man ten years older than us - so not cool. It's a horrid tradition in her family, I don't understand it at all. Taking pity on her, I change the subject to how great it would be for Rails to win, come back to the Capitol, and fall in love with one of us.

Antoinette is just lamenting how awful it would be if he chose to reside in his district instead of moving to the Capitol when half of the television screen changes. The girl has come to a sort of clearing with a pond; the grass is only up to here knees here and we can finally see her face. The sun is setting, throwing pink light on her exhausted face. She spots the water and stumbles forward, pulling out her canteen and emptying what little clean water she had left into her mouth. She falls to her knees and fills the canteen, puts in some drops of something I can't see, and sits back to wait. I wonder why she doesn't drink the water straight off; it's horribly disgusting, but I'm sure the water in her district isn't much different. The districts are very unclean, I've been told.

I recall the giant lizards that attacked Shadow from district eleven early in the games, but none appear. This pond must not have them, I suppose. The girl finally drinks her water, drains the bottle, and starts to fill a second. Out of the grass on the other side of the pond comes a huge golden form just as she's dipping the lip of the bottle below the surface of the pool. I recognize a muttation when I see one; this huge cat-like creature (the commentator calls it a "lion") has massive, powerful legs and six inch claws that scrape the ground where it walks. Its body is low to the ground, hunched over in a stalking position, the muscles in its back rippling with every movement. It has large, fierce eyes that glow red in the near darkness. They're locked on the girl. She sees the muttation then, and doesn't hesitate to turn on her heel and sprint off. The mutt leaps after her, growling horribly. Its claws skim the surface of the girls forgotten supplies and the pack rips open instantly. My thoughts were confirmed, they were razor sharp.

The grass is thinner where the girl is running, I can see her shoulders up. The lion is invisible aside from the quaking grass where it runs, but I I would almost rather not see it. The screen shows just her now, the panic evident on her face even in this darkness. Then she is bathed in light, probably from a full moon, and it seems to blind her because she gasps and her hands shoot up to her face. She stumbles, loses momentum, and falls. The lion closes in and is about to pounce when its huge golden head whips around to its left, where a dark figure has appeared in the grass. Skidding to a stop, it rounds on Rails, who seems to have stumbled on the scene by accident. The lion mutt lets out another menacing growl and takes off for the boy, who pales but stands firm, the knife clutched tightly in his raised hand looking pathetic and useless compared to the lion's teeth and claws.

Rails ducks into a crouch just as the lion leaps, and the beast sails right over him. It catches the top of his forehead ever so slightly, but the blood is minimal at only a small trickle. The lion lands on its feet behind him and spins around quickly for a second attack, but Rails is already sprinting away, toward the girl. He has a hardened look in his eyes and I know what he's about to do right before he does it. She's on her feet now and running, but Rails has legs that were built for speed. He catches up in seconds. She has nothing to defend herself with. It's over in a matter of seconds.

The canon goes off for the girl from district four, but Rails is already spinning around, knife in his hand. His eyes are now filled with a deadened look, visible even in the night. He's looking for the lion, trying not to panic when he spots it, only a few yards away. His knife is gripped tightly in his right hand, which I can see is trembling even from the camera's distance; he doesn't stand a chance and he knows it. But the lion isn't moving. It stands there, staring at him for a minute, motionless under the white light of the moon. Then it turns, flicks its tail calmly, and walks casually into the grass until it is lost from view completely, leaving Rails standing alone beside the lifeless body of the District Four female, blood trickling town the side of his face and dripping off his jaw.

The screen flicks over to the commentator, and the fluorescent yellow background blinds me for a moment. The Games are over already, Rails from the tenth district of Panem has won, they're saying. It takes a moment to sink in, but Antoinette and I are soon jumping and skipping for joy. Rails won! He won! And that means I did! I try to calculate how much money I'll receive because of his accidental blunder into to path of the mutt and the girl, but I've never been good at math. It's a lot, I can tell you! And now the fiercely handsome Rails will be coming back to the Capitol, back to where I might meet him. This news sends Antoinette and I into a tizzy of excitement, and even though he won't even be presented for his post-Games interview for probably two or three days, we begin searching my closet for the most eye-catching, head-turning outfit.


End file.
